Last Night

by Jeff Paolino

Debbie Cornlow ran around the corner of the brick building and slammed her back against it. She took a couple deep breaths. On an exhale she peeked back around the corner. Nothing but a rat running through a puddle. Five blocks away a few cars traveled west to east under the yellow glow of the streetlights. The sidewalks were ready for the waste operatives in the morning. The traffic light clicked and unstuck her from the corner.

The street was black slick with fresh rain. It sparkled back and forth as she balanced on her heels, her corns were bustin’ from the run. She walked on, clutching the lapels of her dark green overcoat, glancing over her shoulder on repeat. Eyeliner ran down her cheeks. She peeked again, and noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Something crouched by the trash bags across the street. A child. She jerked her head back to the bags, and the child was gone. It was the trash can, must have been. You never know in this city.

She wiped the wet from her eyes and looked both ways down the street. Empty, quiet. Only a few windows were lit by other nocturnals. Debbie knew a scream wouldn’t do anything at this time. She crossed the street over to the trash. No kid, that was a relief, then a can popped in the bag by her knee. Her heart froze. She pulled the bags away to find the child. She tore open one bag and was met with beady black eyes and a snarled white grin. Fear struck again, this time in a different way. She backed into the tin trashcan and fell on her rear, the raccoon scuttled away. She got up and fixed the mess she made, when a shadow darted behind her. She caught a glimpse of, what looked like, a small gray foot disappear into the alley.

The alley was dark and thin, lit only by the street lamps at either end. She could make out some dumpsters toward the middle, and a figure, crouched by the fire escape on the opposite wall. Debbie called to the figure, “Hello?” Nothing moved. “Hey, do you need help?” She walked into the dark of the alley. The silhouette shuddered, then rose from its crouch. Its shoulders jutted out and up, followed sharply by its torso. The legs stretched ten feet. The arms grew long and slow, and forward after Debbie. She backed up with contorted countenance, tears streaming. The creature’s mouth opened and a bright light beamed out onto Debbie. The mouth moved and distorted the brightness. It turned her pupils into pinholes. She tore away and ran halfway down the block.

She would have run all the way home, but this was crazy. What just happened? She couldn’t be left guessing and chalk it all up to the alcohol mixing badly, or something. That was nothing she couldn’t handle, so she stopped and turned around. Her vision focused and zoomed onto the entrance of the alley. After a moment, a raccoon scuttled its dumpy butt out of the alley. Debbie was tired. It was just a raccoon. The same raccoon? Who knows? Time to go to bed.

Her apartment building and entered the code. Behind the glass door was a crouched shadow, just a chair. There was no shadow. Hell, maybe no raccoon. She walked up the first flight of steps. On each floor there was an apartment door. The walls were white, with some water damage here and there in the corners. As she passed the first door, a shadow came into her peripheral. She ignored it. The second floor the same. This time she jerked toward the shadow, it vanished. A residual dark cloud lingered for a moment, before dissipating into the bright white of the door.

She climbed the last flight of stairs, jangled her lock, and opened the door. Shades drawn, her apartment was dark. The door closed behind her. Standing in the corner to her right, was a man. His face stretched like putty, and his eyeballs rolled around in his skull. She jumped and flicked the switch. Nothing but the coat rack in the corner. Jeez, Debbie, pull it together, she thought, then pulled a bottle of bourbon from the shelf with a short glass, and plopped everything on the table.

No need for ice tonight. The whiskey filled to the top and she gulped half down. Just go to bed. It will be fine. I didn’t know that could happen. I can’t ever go to that bar again, that’s for damn sure. I didn’t know people could foam from the mouth like that. Why was he flopping so hard on the ground? And that sound, that sound of flesh covered skull hitting cement, over and over again. That has never happened before. Never. It has always gone smooth. Too much? I did others the same amount with much better results. Did I drop more than I thought, on accident? On purpose? No, I would never. I counted the pills outside the bar, after I left, before the alley. Why do I keep having this conversation? I know what happened. I knew the moment it happened. They told me not too much, I did too much. If I can handle what I took, then why would that have happened? I am so tired.

She put the last sip of bourbon to her lips and dropped the glass. It shattered on the floor like someone she had met before. It slipped, not her fault. Her legs wobbled and her torso jerked. Just get to bed. She dragged her hand across the hallway wall, then fell onto her bed, laid on her back and cuddled the covers tight.

Bubbles flooded her brain as she dozed. They popped, leaving black orbs of smoke that faded into the dark gray. Her eyes opened, then closed, testing the darkness of each, unable to separate the two. She clutched the covers tighter. Eyes opened, closed, opened, to see the child crouched on her dresser, a black silhouette in the blackness of the new morning.

Iron butterflies, rusty and ungreased, ripped at the lining of her stomach. Her body was stiff, only her eyes could move. The creature’s upper half stretched to the ceiling, its lower half stretched to the floor. Its bony limbs cracked and jerked, and extended to every wall. Its Spider-like crouch filled the room. Leathery gray skin hung from its body, wrinkled and smeared with red streaks. Its huge putty face hovered over Debbie’s. Its eyeballs rolled around in its skull. A green syrup dripped from its pointed nose and landed into Debbie’s mouth. The monster’s jaw cracked and churned. It opened wide. A beam of white light blasted out and burned Debbie’s eyes. Its jaw jerked opened wider, letting out more, brighter light that consumed her vision. Foam sprayed from her mouth. Her skull smacked against the headboard as she drifted into the silent white light.

“So…are you.” Can’t help myself but I start feeling really, really awkward. I’m sure she never picked up on it, but I was so in love with her back in ’43, when we both starred in The Aqua-Marine and the She-Wolf, the ninth Aqua-Marine serial. She played Ursula, the She-Wolf, this gorgeous pirate maid, more ruthless than the Dragon Lady from Terry and the Pirates. I played myself, Jackie Harkins, like I always did, Prince Thag’s kid sidekick. Well, partner is more like it, since I wasn’t just a kid anymore. I’d just turned sixteen. I never found out how old Miss Chandler was, but she always had a lot of the guys around her in attendance and I figured, what could she see in a kid like me?

But she doesn’t look like she’s changed a bit. She’s just the way I remember her. But if that was back in 1943, and I’ve been in here since 1950, and…how long have I been here? She would have to be in her fifties now…

“It’s me, alright, Jackie. If I tell you somethings that only I would know, would that convince you?” She proceeded to do just that. There was no doubt about it. This was Julia Chandler, there was no doubt about that. But something started nagging at the back of my mind, something that should have been obvious, but whatever it was I just wasn’t quite getting it.

“Look, it’s great to see you, but could I have those pills? I need them to…”

“You mean the Kheft?” She shook the bottle in her hand and slowly approached me.

“Kheft? No—this is Oxynite.”

She smiled and held the bottle sideways in her two fingers. “I know what Nefertat told you. You need it to enrich your oxygen levels while you’re down here. But that was only so he could keep you dreaming down here all these years. You have no idea how long you’ve even been here, do you? Or even what you really are.”

She had gotten really close by now. The closer she got the more uncomfortable I was getting—not because there was this beautiful woman two feet away from me, a woman I’d loved for years, but because the feeling that something was just not right wouldn’t go away.

“In some ways, you’re still like a young boy. Not been around too many women.”

“Well…” I was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot though the room was cool enough. “…there hasn’t been too much time for girls, what with all the…adventures.”

“And saving the world like the two of you used to do. You’ve given up a lot…but I know how you really feel.”

And suddenly, so suddenly I didn’t even register how, she was in my arms.

Or rather I should say I was in her arms. It all happened so quickly and, not that I didn’t like it—I had fantasized about that woman ever since the first time I’d seen her. Something magnetic in her eyes. But up close like this, that wasn’t how I’d pictured something like this happening.

I needed to think this out and I started trying to push her back. This was all happening too quick for my comfort. I couldn’t budge her. I could feel the cords and tendons in her arms. They felt unyielding as steel. Her voice whispered kissing soft.

“Relax. Just close your eyes. I know you want this…” I felt her lips touch my neck.

It felt like tiny needles piercing my skin. I’d been gripped by octopus suckers before, it felt like that. I pushed against her, hard as I could but her grip was too strong.

Suddenly I knew why this had all felt wrong. From somewhere inside me came a surge of strength I could not have imagined I actually had. I broke her grip on me. Out of the corner of my eyes I could see a series of small round marks, like those an octopus’ suckers make on skin.

The woman crouched like some predatory beast. Her fingers became curled claws. But it was her mouth that shocked me most. Something like teeth jutted out of her mouth, but they were too long and thin and sticking out at right angles to her face.

And her face. It was no longer that of the actress who had played Ursula in the serial. How could it be? Julia Chandler had died in the same shipping accident that had taken out the Aqua-marine in 1949.

“What…are you?”

She still had Julie Chandler’s face, but it was like it was some kind of liquid mask and was now slowly rolling off her face. To my horror I saw hers was not the only one. It’s like there was a whole host of them, fighting for their place on her head. It was almost like watching candle wax drip.

Her voice hissed out. “Not exactly the seaweed draped corpse you might be expected to find. I’m surprised you found your strength. I took the Kheft away from you too quickly. Your human self was the weakest link and you’re waking up too quickly.”

“What the hell are you?” I’m not used to using profanity but all this was too much.

“”Follow me to your Prince Thag if you’d find out.” And then she whipped out the room. I’d already had an example of her speed. She had tried to kill me! There was no way I should have been able to fight her off. But I knew where she was going.

The tank Thag floated in was vast—fifty feet by fifty and a thousand feet deep. The outer airlock door was open. No—torn open. How could any living thing be so strong as to tear steel like that? Of course, my friend could do it easily.

The inner door had a window, three feet thick, but clear as crystal. The woman—whatever she was—had gotten in somehow. Her skin was covered by fish scales, fins sprouted from her arms, legs and back. A dark figure floated in the middle of the tank.

It was my friend, Prince Thag of Atlantis, just as I remembered him, completely human, silvery hair moving with the motion of the waters. A face, movie star handsome, just the way I remembered from all our times together.

But even as I watched it was like looking at an image made of smoke and watching the smoke blow away. Julie had said that the kheft made me dream. By God—was the dream fading and was this the reality?

He was no longer the man I remembered. Fish scale. Fins. Armor plate. This couldn’t be Prince Thag of Atlantis, my friend! He looked exactly the way he did in the film, that accursed film!

The woman-thing was attacking him. Her claws was tearing at him. I don’t know what was happening. I didn’t know why Thag was looking like that. I had no idea what had changed him, but he was still my friend, and I had to help him, somehow.

But how?

In fury I punched at the inner door. Futile. Even if I could smash the door open I’d drown. I wasn’t an amphibian like Aqua-Marine. Nonetheless, I kept on punching. It was the only thing I could think of to do.

And suddenly I felt like I was floating. I opened my eyes and saw a face. But what looked at me through hate-filled eyes was only human in the vaguest fashion. There was a lust there that was more dangerous than any I could have ever have conceived. I moved suddenly, striking at her, defending myself to the best of my ability. The woman-thing drew back. I had won a brief breathing space.

But I wasn’t breathing! The shock hit me immediately. Water was coming into me through the sides of my throat. I looked at my arm. My hand raised before my eyes. Scales like a fish. Skin hard as a rock. I was in the water tank! Somehow I had awoken in the body of my friend. This was Thag’s body!

But Thag was completely human in appearance. He couldn’t look like this! Webs between his fingers. And still the She-thing kept attacking me. Why was Thag so helpless? Why was I in his body. If I was in here, where was he? No time to think, this woman was intent on murdering him—me—and all I could do was fight. Waves of her hatred washed over me, and her thoughts—such malice and loathing!

“The only one of your kind. The only male. Oh, how long we’ve hunted you, you would have brought death to the Siren Race. They finally bred you, nothing but a killing machine. Killed your fifty brothers in battle, mindless, brainless.”

All the while these insane thoughts flowed from her mind to mine, she kept on striking, ripping and tearing but Thagimasidas’ armor held.

“But you had to develop a soul—needed to be weak, vulnerable, learn humanity. Spawned a human from your side. Developed a mind, feelings, emotions—a soul!”

Her madness was worse than her physical attack. And I had had just about enough of it! I was taught to never hit a woman—but this was no lady!

“Captain Nefartat lied to you, boy—told you a comic book story. Kept you locked up here for over a hundred years. You’ll never get to see what they’ve done to the world—I’ll see to that!”

Killing machine. Despite the swiftness of her attack I seized her in an iron grip. I could feel the cracking beginning in her armor. Was that panic showing on that fish-like face. With a great surge of strength she suddenly broke free and darted toward the airlock door. She had manipulated the lock from the outside but in her panic tore through the steel door. Three feet of reinforced steel!

I followed her out but she was gone, probably out the same way she had somehow found to get inside. Thousands of gallons of water poured out from the ruined doors. The entire bunker might be flooded. But at least I had escaped her madness.

The human body I had lived in for I had no idea even for how long had been washed into a corner. Dead. There would be no returning to it. I hadn’t believed the story she had mentally thrown at me. How could I look at it as anything but a psychic attack?

But I looked at the face—formerly my face—of the man I’d once been. The truth was even now fully seeping in. I had been the Aqua-Marine, no hero, but a mindless killing machine who had spawned a human body to learn kindness and compassion. But it had served its purpose. I had kept young for decades and not even known it. But the body before me had attained its true age. A man that must have been over a hundred fifty years old.

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https://youtu.be/_YFGsbrgP58